Page 67 of Knotted

My fingers hover over the keys, my mind spinning. If I tell him I didn’t write the story, he’ll think I’m full of it.

But admitting I did?

Not happening. One, it’s a total lie, and two, the story is an affront to everything I stand for—personally, professionally, and grammatically.

@SydneySun:Sorry, super busy. Totally swamped, actually. Maybe next week?

@MountainBoyNYC:Busy? With what? Deciding on your next victim to slay? Or choosing which emoji to use in your next tweet? You know, for a writer, your punctuation is, um, let’s call it flamboyant.

I didn’t write that! But I can’t exactly confess that to him, now, can I?

@SydneySun:I prefer the terms fun and frolicsome.

@MountainBoyNYC:I prefer the term schizophrenic and desperate for a dictionary. And since you’re basking in the glory of your viral article, I’m sure you’ve got a few minutes to spare. Tell me where you are, and I’ll stop playing hard to get.

Him playing hard to get? Yeah, right.

@SydneySun:Playing hard to get? Please. You chase women harder than a kid after an ice cream truck.

@MountainBoyNYC:At least I’m honest about it. You’re in way over your head.

@MountainBoyNYC:Do not make me come after you, guns blazing.

@SydneySun:If your gun’s blazing, maybe a doctor can help. A nice round of antibiotics should do the trick.

@MountainBoyNYC:So, you don’t want to meet with me. What’s the matter? Scared?

My heart stutters, and a rush of irritation follows. It’s the same damn line he’s been using since I’ve known him. And for me, it always manages to push the right button that sends me from zero to furious with something to prove.

It’s how he got me into the lake to swim for the first time. Trying to skateboard down the biggest hill in town. Tastinguni, a Japanese sea urchin delicacy which, for the record, isn’t bad, just not for me.

I narrow my eyes and type out a response, my fingers flying over the keys.

@SydneySun:Of you? Hardly. Of contracting a mystery rash from sitting on the same park bench as you? Definitely.

@MountainBoyNYC:Good. So, it’s settled. We’re meeting.

Wait. What?

No, we’re not meeting. We arenot.Meeting.

@MountainBoyNYC:Where and when?

I need to shut this down. It feels wrong, deceiving him like this. He might be my worst enemy, but he’s still my husband, after all.

So, I do what any cornered spouse would do.

I hide.

@SydneySun:Meet me at the Statue of Liberty.

@SydneySun:Tomorrow. Noon.

@SydneySun:And bring lunch.

I only add that because, as much as I want to send him on a wild goose chase, I’m not heartless enough to let him do it on an empty stomach. The man barely eats right as it is.

His response is instant.

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